Hope and Dreams
by Enelya
Summary: Ficlet, Gilraen's POV. It is almost dark. Imladris is wrapped in shadows of deepening grey, the first faint stars are beginning to shine...


**"Hope and Dreams" by Enelya**

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Disclaimer: Of course I don't own LOTR, but I'm very grateful to be able to play around in the universe Tolkien created.

Rating: PG, nothing shocking, just a little ficlet. 'Naneth' is the Sindarin word for 'mother', 'nana' is like 'mummy' (thanks to theHisweloke online Sindarin dictionary for clearing this up) and 'estel' of course means 'hope'.

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It is almost dark. Imladris is wrapped in shadows of deepening grey, the first faint stars are beginning to shine.

"It's time for bed, Estel."

He looks up with mild childish irritation; from where I stand in the doorway, my shadow falls on his page.

"Just another five minutes, Naneth?" he says pleadingly. I have to smile - he will be eight years old in the spring, and already he is learning the subtle art of persuasion.

"You told me that ten minutes ago," I remind him gently. He makes a half-grimacing face, but continues to smile hopefully. "You can continue to read that tomorrow. It is time for sleeping now."

He puts down the book reluctantly and pretends to sulk and stomp out of the room, but his performance is only what he deems necessary - he knows there is a reward for his pains.

A few minutes later he is tucked in under the covers and looking up at me expectantly. "Tell me a story, Naneth, please?" he asks.

I take a moment to wonder what I shall tell him tonight - he knows most of the Elvish stories, and I do not wish to frighten him with the downfall of Númenor and the like. Nor would I go against the wishes of Lord Elrond, for these are dark days, and who can say when the sun shall shine again? I would have him live this dream for as long as he can.

"Shall I tell you the tale of Beren and Lúthien?" I suggest.

"No. You told me that the night before."

I try again. "Would you like to hear of Eärendil, then?"

"Perhaps tomorrow night," he says contemplatively.

"Well, what tale would you like to hear?"

"A tale you haven't told me before," he replies, after a moment's thought. "Can you tell me a new tale?"

A feeling akin to panic roams my mind as I try to think of a story he has not heard before… and then a thought occurs to me. If I can tell him of things that were, why can I not tell him of things that will be? And a flash of inspiration reveals to me the new tale that I will tell my son tonight.

He shifts a little as I begin before giving me his full attention. "Once upon a time, there lived a boy in a faraway land. He thought his fate would be like any other's, but one day he discovered that he was destined to be a great hero."

Estel sits up a little, my idea is working. "What did he do?" he asks.

"He went out into the world and did many things," I answer. Estel's face grows more and more impressed as I describe this 'tale' to him - with dragons and great battles, and a magic sword that gave the hero astounding skill, and great deeds that I pluck from my memories of the tales my own mother told to me as a child.

"…but what was most important was when he became king."

"And defeated all his enemies?" asks Estel.

"Yes, but the most important part of him becoming king was that he loved his people and could protect them all their lives," I say determinedly, and Estel looks a little puzzled, but nods his head.

But suddenly he frowns and looks at me a little suspiciously. "Naneth?"

"Yes?"

"If he became a king, does that mean he had to have a queen?"

I consider this for a moment. "Yes. They loved each other very much and ruled their kingdom wisely together." Suddenly I must force myself not to laugh at the expression that appears on my son's face - something between revulsion and pity for the king, I think.

"I don't ever want to become a king if I have to get married," he says.

I have to smile at this. "Are you sure you'll never change your mind?" I ask.

"No," he says very determinedly, "Never."

This does not convince me at all, but I nod as if I agree with him. "Well, that's how the story ends. Goodnight, Estel."

"Goodnight, Naneth," he replies, and I get up to leave. Then, "Naneth?" he says suddenly.

I turn in the doorway. "Yes, Estel?"

"The boy who became king, I was wondering…"

"Wondering what?"

"What was his name?"

Ah! How young he looks there, in the soft glow of the room. I must remind myself of who he is and will be - he will not be my child forever, although I would have it so. All things pass, and childhood passes so fleetly, but now, tonight, he is still Estel, Gilraen's child.

"You wish to know his name?" But what can any mother do to stop her child growing? I cannot change his fate.

He nods expectantly, and so I smile with sadness, and hope also.

"Aragorn."


End file.
